The Cold Stranger

The supermarket always felt different after ten at night.

During the day, it sound with life children crying for sweets and biscuits trolley wheels sound against shelves, impatient customers start complaining in long queues. But late at night, everything slowed. The bright lights seemed softer somehow, and every sound became clearer. The sound of the refrigerators running smoothly. The distant beep of the scanner. The sound of Naomi’s trainers against the cleaned and shiny floor.

Naomi stood behind the till, rubbing her tired eyes for a moment before forcing herself to straighten up again. Her shift still had two hours left.

Two hours but It felt like forever. Her back ached from standing all day, her mind kept going back to the hospital. her mum lying weakly in that pale bed. the doctor’s serious face. the impossible amount of money she still needed for her mother's treatment.

She swallowed hard and looked down at the small notebook hidden beneath the counter. Numbers filled the page. Calculations. Borrowed amounts. Debts. Nothing added up no matter how many times she checked.

“Naomi?”

She looked up quickly. An elderly woman stood beside her with a basket in hand. Mrs Peter.

Naomi instantly smiled.

“Evening, Mrs Peter.”

The old woman gave a tired smile . “You’re still here? They’re working you too hard in this place.”

Naomi laughed softly. “Someone has to keep the shop running.”

Mrs Peter began unloading her basket slowly snacks, wine and a small packet of sugar.

Naomi noticed the woman struggling slightly with her hands. Arthritis again.

“Are you alright there?” Naomi asked gently.

“These fingers make movement uncomfortable for mec,” Mrs Peter replied.

“Here, let me help.”She collect the basket from Mrs Peter

Naomi carefully unpacked the basket for her, calculating each item one by one.

“You always look after me,” Mrs Peter said gently.

“My mum would kill me if I didn’t respect my elders.”

“That woman raised you properly then.”Mrs Peter replied.

The words hit Naomi harder than expected.

For a second, she pictured her mum smiling in their kitchen years ago, with little baking flour on her cheeks while teaching Naomi how to knee down . Back when life is still going smoothly for them.

Naomi tried not to remember again before she start feeling sad and start crying again.

Mrs Peter removed some amount of money from her purse slowly, counting the money with shaky fingers.

“Oh dear.” she whispered. “I thought I had enough.”

Naomi glanced at the total.

Only a few note short.

Mrs Peter looked embarrassed. “Take the wine back.”

Naomi quietly shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh no, I can’t let you”

“It’s alright,” Naomi interrupted gently. “I’ve got it.”

Before the woman could argue further, Naomi slipped a few naira note from her own pocket .

Mrs Peter stared at her.

“You sweetheart.”

Naomi smiled softly. “Next time you can buy me tea.”

The old woman laughed.

“Deal.”

As Mrs Peter slowly packed her shopping, the automatic doors at the front of the supermarket slide open.

Cold air swept inside. Naomi barely looked up at first Then she noticed the sudden silence.

Even the security guard near the entrance seemed to straighten slightly.

A man had entered the supermarket. Tall. Sharp black coat. Dark gloves. Everything about him looked expensive without trying too hard.

He moved calmly through the entrance, his polished shoes making soft sounds against the floor. There was nothing rushed about him. Nothing uncertain.

Most late night customers wandered around half asleep or irritated after long days. But this man looked completely awake.

Naomi frowned slightly. Something about him felt strange. Not dangerous exactly. Just distant.

Like he didn’t quite belong in ordinary places. The man paused near the drinks walkway , quietly observing the shop around him. His expression barely changed.

Then his eyes landed on Naomi. For a brief moment, she felt oddly exposed, though he stood several metres away.

His face remained unreadable. Naomi suddenly found the floor fascinated.

“Good looking guy ,” Mrs Peter whispered suddenly.

Naomi nearly choked.

“Mrs Peter !”

“What?” the old woman grinned mischievously. “I may be old, dear, not blind.”

Naomi laughed despite herself. When she looked up again, the man had already moved deeper into the shop.

He walked slowly through the walkways , occasionally picking up items before placing them back down again. He didn’t seem to be shopping properly. It almost looked as if he was studying the place or the people inside it. A teenage worker nearby taps Naomi.

“That guy makes me feel uncomfortable am scared ,” he spoke quietly.

Naomi replied gently. “Maybe he’s just tired.”

“No. Look at him. Nobody dresses like that to buy milk at midnight.”

Naomi looked over again. The worker had a point.The man looked far too polished for the run down supermarket. His coat alone probably cost more than Naomi's two months salary.

Still, there was something calm about him. No arrogance. No impatience. Just silence.

Several minutes later, he approached her till carrying only a bottle of water.

Up close, he looked even more handsome. Late thirties perhaps. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. Dark skin. Gap teeth.

Dimples. Controlled posture But it was his expression that baffled her most. Empty. Not cruel. Not cold exactly. Just unreadable.

Naomi cleared her throat politely.

“Good Evening sir.”

The man placed the water on the counter.

“Good evening.”

His voice was smooth and low, carrying the faintest hint of weariness. Naomi scanned the bottle.

“That will be $15.”

He handed some amount of money without checking the amount. As Naomi reached for the change, an argument suddenly broke out near the entrance.

A drunk customer was shouting at the security guard.

“You think you can touch me?” the man barked aggressively.

Several customers turned nervously. Naomi stiffened automatically. The sharply dressed stranger merely glanced toward the commotion once before returning his attention to her.

He was Completely calm. As if chaos meant nothing to him. The security guard finally pushed the drunk man outside, the doors shut down again.

Silence returned. Naomi let out a breath she had not realised she’d been holding.

“Long night?” the stranger asked quietly.

She gave a small tired laugh. “You could say that.”

His eyes rested on her for a moment longer than necessary.

“You were kind to that elderly woman.”

Naomi blinked, surprised.

“You noticed?”

“I notice things.”

Something about the way he said it made her suddenly felt a small fear Still, his tone remained polite.

Most customers barely looked at workers like her. Yet somehow this man had observed everything happening. Naomi handed over his change.

“Well kindness doesn’t cost much.”

A strange expression flashed across his face. So quick she almost missed it. Not amusement. Not sadness. Something in between.

“That depends,” he said softly.

Before Naomi could respond, he picked up the bottle and turned away. She watched him walk towards the exit door.

Just before the automatic doors opened, he stopped briefly without turning around.

“Goodnight, Naomi.”